Tag Archives: super bowl

Winners are losers

Happy sportz day y’all.

Last night was weird. I attracted an odd crowd. I think it’s because I was wearing a warm-ish sweater and a skirt.

We started off with another 21st birthday. Vodka bucket. Homegirl was wrecked, but that’s how it’s spose to beeeee living young and wild and free. One male, who can accurately be described as a “bro” commenced hitting on me. Then the party migrated to the KA house.

Giant pong. Lost. Had to do a naked lap. Jokes, someone else did it for me. Beers from Pledge Ryan. Broke a table. More attention from the bro. All in a day’s work. Wandered into bros room with bro and a mutual friend to pee, then she left. Awkward. Bro was laying on the bed giving me those eyes, and he goes “you know you want to.” Except I didn’t. I can’t quite remember what I said, but it was something along the lines of “TURN DOWN FOR WHAT.” Then I walked out. Snaps for me because he’s a controversial character on campus. Bullet: dodged.

Left the KA house and ran into my regular’s roommate. We walked back to my friend’s apartment, minus the friend, and had an hour-long drunk heart-to-heart. It was actually really nice. We talked about his cheating girlfriend, his total woof-hookup, and my inability to emotionally care about people. We parted ways.

AND THEN… I found a total winner. Get pumped about this story. It’s golden.

We were walking in opposite directions. I was freezing my tits off. He had a case of beer. He offered me a beer. His ploy worked because we stopped to chat. He hated how I kept saying bueno. Shoulda been a warning sign. He mentioned how one of the sister’s in my sorority family was at his place and “wanna chill?” CARPE NOCHE. 

So naturally I said yes. When we got there, I noticed that the mentioned sister was indeed there, but she was just laying in bed with her boyfriend and watching TV. Not the scene he painted for me 10 minutes ago.

So I sipped a beer, he made me food… and dropped it on the floor. He gave me sweatpants; I literally threw them on over my clothes. He offered his bed and he turned out the lights. It was purely my intention to just pass out because I was drunk and the walk home seemed like too much of a journey. So I flipped over to face the wall. Then he kept trying to flip me over towards him and he kept saying “just kiss me” as he went for the chin tilts. Which I was not interested in. I was interested in the beer, the sweatpants, the spicy Doritos, and not having to walk home in the cold. So I just kissed him. For half a second. And flipped back over to sleep.

He persisted. Ever forward.

So then I tried to leave, and he kept trying to kinda fence me in with his body to keep me from getting up. I tried, literally, every single trick in the book to convince him to let me leave. He told me I wouldn’t still be there if I didn’t want to be there; he was clearly oblivious to my attempts to leave. I fabricated life problems and emotional issues. He started life-coaching me. His nickname is affectionately “coach.” He promised I could just go to sleep. So I tried. And he kept trying to flip me over again. NO.

He wasn’t picking up what I was throwing down.

So from there I took off the comfy sweatpants to leave. He insisted that he walk me home once he saw that I was definitely not going to pass out at his place… like I was going to let that happen. He followed me out of his room and into the hallway. I insisted that I could get home by myself, but he wasn’t going for it. I had to start making some desperate moves.

Let me share some dialogue.

Him:  Stay here. Go back to bed. Me: I’m so ridiculously drunk. I can’t even stand straight. The walls are shifting. If I do stay, I’m probably going to throw up in your bed. Him: I don’t care. 

Hear that, ladies and gents? He doesn’t care if I throw up in his bed. So aggressively persistent. So I ramped up my game.

I purposely stumbled and wobbled like I was shwasted. I held onto the wall like it was holding me up. I started to pick a fight so I could have a good reason to walk away quickly. None of it worked. SOS. I made it to the elevator, but he wouldn’t let the door shut.

So I went for the ultimate move: tears. I literally made myself cry to make him think he really really upset me. I pushed him out of the elevator with one hand while pushing the door close button.


The tears were gone, instantly. The walk home felt like a victory because I escaped the dragon’s lair. My life amuses me.